Command and Conquer: Vanguard
by Hawki
Summary: Oneshot: Defeating Nod was hard. Defeating the scrin was difficult. But dealing with the aftermath of the Third Tiberium War on a personal level...that could be next to impossible. Even for some of GDI's most experienced officers...


_A/N_

_In one sense, _Command and Conquer _lends itself over to pairings. In another it doesn't._

_To be specific, such traits comply to the _Red Alert _and _Tiberium _series respectively. Where Red Alert practically screams pairings at the player, the _Tiberium _series is, somewhat appropriatly, more conservative. Sure, we've had little snippets of relationship-McNeil and Umagon for instance, Havoc and Sakura for another, but nothing compared to what _Red Alert _has presented. Despite this, when I settled on writing a pairing oneshot for C&C, I settled for the _Tiberium _series, wanting a challange. And having settled on an obscure aspect of _Tiberium Wars_...well, the results are below._

* * *

**Vanguard**

GDI Battle Commander Gabriel Connor never felt easy in cars.

An oversimplication perhaps. Over the last few months, he'd gone from point A to point B in ground vehicles ranging from Pitbulls to a MARV and had learnt to live with it. But he'd rather orchastrate Command and Control from a vehicle that was further away from the frontlines, without the risk of being shot down by terrorist fanatics or alien invaders. So while the taxi driving him through Washington was far removed from the dying embers of the Third Tiberium War, he still couldn't shake the feeling of dread that something unexpected was about to happen. Something involving gunfire and/or explosions.

_Real world experience is overrated, _he thought. _Or maybe it's the city._

Sighing, he paid his fare and got out, the night breeze ruffling his jet black hair that had started growing back since assigned to B-2. He'd been given a sense of priority ever since Granger insisted on making him the focal point of GDI's counterattack against Nod and personal appearance had never rated highly among them. With casual brown eyes and a physique that would prompt doddering grannies to claim that he wasn't eating enough meat (then again, not many people were nowadays, given the ammount of land required for livestock in comparision to the ammount of land avaliable), only his CENTCOM uniform marked him out as the one who'd rescued the very city he was standing in. A city that despite the jubilant atmosphere in light of the invaders' defeat at Ground Zero and the world by extension, still bore the scars of the fanatics' assault.

Resisting the urge for a cigerette, Gabriel began walking. Granger had told him that he was a hero and if the ammount of calls Lieutenant Telfair had got from W3N over the last few days was any indication, the media seemed intent on going with that image. Boyle may have resigned, but the importance of perception was still being recognized. It seemed only yesterday when the Energy Summit was the main source of gossip but now it seemed that the TWIII and anything to do with it was set to take its place. And while Battle Commander McNeil had been kind enough to give him a few pointers in addition to the few interviews he'd given Cassandra Blair, it was nothing compared to what lay ahead.

_Now I know how Kane felt, _thought Gabriel bitterly, walking through the recreational district of Celepheid. _I've become the frickin messiah of a global superpower and everyone wants a piece of the supposed glory._ He grimaced, idlely waving back at a couple who seemed flattered to have a war hero pass by them. _Hell, it's only a matter of time until I have my own Inner Cirlce_.

Maybe that wasn't such a bad thing. At least the chance of succession occurred that way. Then again, it would perhaps be more of a square, because the only people he'd ever had regular contact with minus Boyle these last few months had been Granger, Telfair and-...

"Commander?"

Gabriel froze. He knew that voice. And if the single word of that sentence and the way it was said was any indication, the voice knew him as well. Oh, and there was also the sound of light footsteps coming his way, robbing him of any chance of making an escape.

"Commander Connor! I didnt' expect to see you here. Did Granger let you off?"

Gabriel quickly extended his hand, shaking that of the lieutenant's before she could raise it into a salute. No need to make more of a scene.

"Yeah, along with the rest of the Pentagon's staff. You too I take it?"

Kirce James just smiled.

* * *

In a way, blue zone cities were unique. And by extension of their uniqueness, they were also uniform.

By way of explanation, such cities were unique because there were so few left on the planet, urban centers unscarred by tiberium. But as per GDI's desire to maintain the status quo, the same regulations were enforced-little private transport, a soldier on every corner. And since such traits had been taken to the extreme, not to mention the uniform architecture, Washington currently felt like the most uniform place on Earth.

"Beautiful, isn't it?" asked Kirce.

Gabriel smiled faintly. He hadn't gone wandering around in an effort to find company, but being far too polite to tell the lieutenant to frick off, he'd found himself enjoying another individual's presence, or more specifically one of his 'inner circle' (or square, if he wanted to be pedantic). The two of them had liasoned ever since the engagement in the Carolina Badlands. They kept no secrets, they passed on information...Other than his EVA unit, Kirce had perhaps been his most constant companion, the one who perhaps had the greatest idea of how he felt.

But _beautiful?_Where'd that adjective come from?

"Um, pardon?" asked the BC. "What's beautiful exactly?"

The lieutenant smiled. "Washington, of course. Or at least Cepheid."

"..."

"The uniqueness!" the lieutenant exclaimed. "In a world of uniformity, the people here have gone ahead and let themselves go."

Gabriel raised an eyeborw. Commenting on uniqueness, or the lack of it in such a manner...it was reminiscent of Nod rhetroic, the claim that the Council was brainwashing its citizens to create a "sanitized world" or some other piece of conspiratorial bullshit. But looking around the district, with its irregularly colored bricks, its people from all walks of life, its _atmosphere_...yes, it was beautiful really.

"You're right," said the CO softly, making his way to a bench with the subconcious desire to take it all in. He glanced at the lieutenant, who had also sat down on the bench, albeit at a respectful distance. "You come here often?"

Kirce smiled faintly. "Once or twice. Only discovered it last year."

Gabriel remained silent.

Over the years, the Battle Commander had learnt the ins and outs of combat, able to read a situation at a glance. And although the intriacies of a human being were far remvoed from the mathamatics of combat, he'd still learnt how to read people. And right now, it was clear that despite her words and demenour, Lieutenant Kirce James was troubled. _Very _troubled.

_And I think I know why..._

Gabriel had come out into the city to get away from something, specifically the knowledge that if he wasn't careful, he'd turn into some media bigshot that he had no desire of being. And while the chances of a desk jockey getting on the _William Frank Hour _were somewhere between slim and nil, it was clear that the lieutenant wanted to get away from something too. And while she definetly hadn't come out looking for company, a familiar face, like it had been for Gabriel, had been a welcome sight in the end.

Kirce had changed, he knew that weeks ago. Right up to Sarjaevo, she'd been the consumate professional she was known for-willful perhaps and certainly liable to let demenour slip at the more exciting moments, but her dedication to the Initiative and her loathing of Nod were evident. The coming of the aliens though...

_I still can't believe this is actually happening._

Gabriel remembered those words, remembered her face-distraught, unable to comprehend that mankind was no longer alone in the universe, having made made contact with an alien species who decided to honour such a momentous occasion by attacking every major city on the planet and killing everyone in them. He'd barely got over the destruction unleashed in Europe by the liquid tiberium detonation, but Kirce had been far removed from the carnage. Had been in a position for the givens of her life to be swept away in a horrific moment. And even though the war was over for all intents and purposes, the aftershocks of that moment were still being felt.

_Jesus Christ, and I thought I was the only one with problems._

Psychology was underrated. And offering to get a pair of...well, whatever the hell was avaliable here, Gabriel decided to give it the attention it deserved.

* * *

In the course of his life, Gabriel Connor had had a single date. 2034, Sydney, B-14, the sands of Botany Bay while doing a tour of duty in the aftermath of the liquid tiberium detonation in the continent's center. Having heard the words "I had a really good time," misinterpreting the meaning of those words and ending up face first in the sand as a result, he'd decided to keep such contact down to a minimum.

Still, walking back towards the non-pedestrianized section of the district, talking idely with his liason, the battle commander felt safe in the knowledge that no such words would be coming from Lieutenant James' mouth. This wasn't a date-there were a dozen regulations against such a thing and Granger would have their guts for garters if they breached them. And even if such regulations didn't exist, their shared presence hardly qualified as anything so grandiose. This was friendship, nothing more, nothing less.

_Well, in my mind at least. But-..._

"Eleven-thirty," said the lieutenant, looking at her watch. "I best be off."

Gabriel raised an eyebrow. "Early night or something?"

Kirce nodded. "First thing tomorrow. Granger may have given me today off, but he'd sooner defect than extend that period.

Gabriel smiled faintly, attempting to hide his unease. The lieutenant's assessment of the general was completely accurate (not that that was a bad thing, as the BC would trust Granger with his life after all that had occurred), but the moment he was in was far less clear cut. He couldn't say "I had a good time"-that statement far open to interpretation, even if he _had _been glad of her company. On the other hand, just saying "good night" didn't seem to cut it either. They'd gone through hell together and as her superior officer, he felt beheld to be the one to acknowledge that.

_Why is there never a middleground?_

Gabriel didn't know. What he _did _know however, was that he had bigger concerns than what he said and how he said it, specifically that despite being fine one second, the lieutenant was trembling. And following her gaze to a holo-feed above them, displaying the attack on Munich and taking care to include the most visual details that media laws would allow, the BC suspected he knew what the cause was.

_Well...that simplifies matters. _

Kirce let out a sob, tears streaming down her face, memories catching up with her.

_Or not._

* * *

Gabriel knew about the 'emergency supply' of alcohol at InOps. An emergency supply that was to be used when appropriate, such as a means of celerbration when Washington was reclaimed and when the relay node at Ground Zero was destroyed. As such, there wasn't much left and in a world where luxaries were few and far between, getting one's hand on such things was far from guaranteed.

_Still, _thought the Battle Commander, _I think we can make an exception._

With two glasses of port on the table between them, Kirce seemed to think otherwise, or was at least not as convinced as to the neccesity of such a liquid in the current situation.

"Is this necessary?" the lieutenant asked cautiously, having recovered superficially from the grief she'd had a few hours ago.

"If I deem so."

"And is this one of those-..."

"Lieutenant, shut up and drink the bloody port," Gabriel snapped, having finished his own glass and wondering if he could justify pouring himself a second.

The CO quickly decided that he couldn't. He didn't need such a substance to function and while he had no love of his current status quo, it wasn't nearly enough to send him into self destructive behaviour. Pouring another glass for Lieutenant James was another matter however, because while she'd finished her first, it was clear that only one glass of the devil's poison wasn't going to cut it.

_But then maybe it isn't the answer. Maybe...aw hell._

Over the past few months, Gabriel had engaged almost entirely in formal conversation, the only exceptions being in the few messages he'd got from Kane in Egypt and Eastern Europe, where he'd been as offensive as possible to the madman without even trying. But formality wasn't what Kirce needed right now and a foul tongue would be worse than useless. Gabriel sighed, deciding to postpone a second glass for now.

He'd never been trained to converse informally...

"Lieutenant, if it's any consolation, I know what's bothering you," he said awkwardly.

The officer looked up from her glass in surprise. "Sir, nothing's bothering you-..."

"Kirce, you broke down in tears just because of a hologram," said the Battle Commander. "And for better or worse, that's a problem that I can't just ignore."

"Why?" she asked simply, making it clear that it wasn't an issue she wanted to talk about. "If I have a problem, either I should deal with it or I should cease to be a liability."

Gabriel winced. Ceasing to be a liability...he could imagine how some people, some _things _would deal with that.

Maybe that was the answer...

"No, you shouldn't said Gabriel softly. "You shouldn't have to fight alone. None of us should. We're the last bastion of civilized humanity and if I'm the kind of person who can turn his back on this, then I should have used that liquid tiberium bomb back at Ground Zero."

"But you didn't," said Kirce. "You saw the bigger picture. You saw beyond the personal level."

"Perhaps," said Gabriel. "But whoso saveth the life of one, it shall be as if he has saved the life of all mankind."

Kirce didn't recognize the literature he'd just quoted. Maybe that was good. It made knealing down and hugging her easier. Then again, tears of gratitude streaming down Kirce's face as she reciprocated the move, maybe the lack of recognition was academic.

"I've saved mankind," said Gabriel. "Now I can save the life of an individual."


End file.
